


前前前世 - Since our past-past-past lives.

by ClassOf13



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Catfish Prompt Party 2017, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Chris is the best wingman, DANCER!YUURI, Love at first sight... Kinda, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Science Nerd!Viktor, Soulmate AUish, rated for the first part of the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 21:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11540568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassOf13/pseuds/ClassOf13
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is what someone would define as a "science nerd". He's an astronomer that loves his job and his dog more than anything else and that's why his past relationships somehow never worked out. But love works in mysterious ways, and from a boring bachelor party things can take an unexpected turn.It wasn’t like he wasn’t happy. He was, truly. He and Christophe had been best friends since college days (when Chris was still an innocent young man coming from the Swiss mountains), and seeing him finally getting married and settling down truly was a joy. But- yes, there was a “but” - somehow he wasn’t able to completely enjoy the moment.Christophe was 25 years old, worked as a model and was getting married to an handsome ice dancer whose name Viktor couldn’t really recall (he had always been terrible with names). And Viktor was 27, a physicist - astronomer, to be precise - and totally, inevitably, desperately single. Beaten in time by an underclassman.





	前前前世 - Since our past-past-past lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Taking part to the "Catfish Prompt Party" intiative on Tumblr I wasn't actually sure that I would be able to pull it off, since English isn't my first language and I've never written something this long in this language. But, thanks to my inspiring and crazy chats with the lovely [@topcatnikki](https://topcatnikki.tumblr.com/), who beta'd this... thing, and listened to all my ramblings and crazy ideas for this fic, well, I guess it turned out pretty okay.
> 
> The prompt that I chose as a first is the one which asked the fluffiest fluff ever, so I did my best and tried to make these dorks even sweeter than they already are. I hope it worked!
> 
> Those ominous kanji in the title are read as "Zenzenzense" which means "Past-Past-Past life", and are the title of a song played by RADWIMPS which is part of the "Your Name." movie soundtrack.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t happy. He was, truly. He and Christophe had been best friends since college days (when Chris was still an innocent young man coming from the Swiss mountains), and seeing him finally getting married and settling down truly was a joy. But- yes, there was a “but” - somehow he wasn’t able to completely enjoy the moment.

Christophe was 25 years old, worked as a model and was getting married to an handsome ice dancer whose name Viktor couldn’t really recall (he had always been terrible with names). And Viktor was 27, a physicist - astronomer, to be precise - and totally, inevitably, _desperately_ single. Beaten in time by an underclassman.

So he was there, drinking and chatting idly, the pleasant buzz of alcohol under his skin. He wasn’t too much into getting drunk, usually, but that night, at his best friend’s bachelor party he felt unusually… Sad. Even party animals had bad days, it seemed. 

«Hey, what’s with that face?».

Chris’ smiling face appeared in front of him, followed by another generous filling of vodka in his glass. «What face? I’m perfectly fine, as you can see».

«You look like your dog just died, you know. You should just shovel away negative thoughts and try to enjoy the party».

Viktor gasped, clutching his chest with a mocking wounded expression. Makkachin, his poodle, was, with a fair amount of certainty, the living being that Viktor loved the most. Chris knew that, of course, and that was why his words stung a bit more than he expected. He must have looked really depressed. 

«Makka is still young and healthy!».

Chris downed what remained of his beer. «Ah, mon cher. I’m sure you know that that wasn’t the point of the conversation. But tonight I’m feeling generous, so I’ll ignore your moping».

A corner of his mind registered the sound of the doorbell ringing. «I’m not moping, I promise you».

«Yes, you are. And now, If you allow me, I’ll show you some really hot stuff that will surely brighten your mood».

When Chris opened the wooden door of his apartment, Viktor felt himself frowning. His friend was amusedly talking to a man who was wearing an obscenely tight black costume and a golden mask vaguely inspired by the ones of Venice carnival. He was fairly attractive, indeed, but also looked like he was feeling very uncomfortable.

A couple of minutes later Chris came back sitting next to him with a huge grin on his face. 

«What’s with that boy?».

The grin on Chris’ face didn’t lose an ounce of its brightness. It was like looking at the cheshire cat. Or maybe it was just the alcohol that was getting to his head. A part of his brain registered JJ yelling something about not knowing that they were supposed to wear costumes.

«He’s Eros, the stripper I’ve hired for tonight. He was just a bit nervous, so I told him to suit himself. You know, liquid courage», Chris pointed out gesturing towards the table where several bottles of alcohol stood in all their gleaming glory. 

In that exact moment the man called “Eros” took a bottle of something that dangerously looked like vodka and downed what remained of its content like fresh water.

Chris whistled.

And that was how, ten minutes later, a pole stood up in the middle of the room - he couldn’t figure out how it ended up there - and a powerful mix of flamenco and tango blasted out of the huge stereo that took a whole wall of Chris’ living room.

Eros walked to the pole and, like he had always belonged in that place, he danced. 

It was entrancing. That man twisted and danced like his life was depending on it. Under the tight fabric of his costume Viktor could glimpse the ripples of his muscular legs and back. 

Eros. No stage name could have been more fitting for the man with the golden mask and jet black hair. It was like he was creating music with his body. The sharp lines of his legs, the soft curve of his spine and hips. Viktor had never seen anything more sensual. 

Or, at least, so he thought. 

The song was still going on when Eros walked in front of him. Viktor wondered what kind of face was hidden behind that mask, what kind of expression those chestnut eyes would have while looking at him. But his thoughts were suddenly put to a stop the moment Eros, slowly and deliberately, started taking the tight shirt of his costume off. 

His mouth went dry. 

The man wasn’t particularly muscular, but he was fit and his body was toned.

(Viktor thought he should consider taking up pole dancing when indulging too much into the pleasures of food.)

And if Eros’ performance on the pole was something quite remarkable, Viktor felt himself going dangerously weak in the knees as the man decided the he was more fitting for being a pole to dance on.

Chris had been right. His mood had considerably brightened up.  


§

He wasn’t sure of how exactly they ended up on the floor. He only knew that they both had a couple of strong cocktails to drink, courtesy of Chris and the years he had spent working part time as a barman.  
Viktor distantly felt his back thumping against the wall as Eros sit on his lap, swinging his arms behind his neck, eyes hazy and unfocused behind his mask. They talked about meaningless things, all hushed tones and hot breaths against each other’s ears, for who knows how long. 

He thought about praising himself for keeping his self control while drunk, but he had to say that Eros unashamedly grinding on his crotch was both incredibly pleasant and frustrating. 

So, he considered some options. 

Abducting the undoubtedly attractive man to Christophe’s guest room and doing something about their… Situation was very tempting, but somehow Viktor felt like that wasn’t the right thing to do (though his body’s natural reactions had to say otherwise). He was a gentleman, after all. He had to ask his name and then take him out on a couple of dates, maybe three. Maybe that was his chance for finally finding-

Teeth gently nibbled at his earlobe. Viktor silenced a gasp against the man’s throat, a red lipstick mark standing out on his pale skin.

(He couldn’t really recall how he got some makeup on his face, but he was fairly certain that that shade of red suited Eros’s skin far better than his lips).

He had to stop himself before doing something foolish.

§

The morning after Viktor woke up on the floor of Chris’ bathroom with a splitting headache, smudged makeup (courtesy of JJ’s terrible sense of aesthetics, he had recalled) and the words “ _Eros ♥_ ” written with permanent marker on his butt-cheek. 

He had been able to remember just bits and fragments of the previous night’s facts and, if the autograph on his ass hadn’t been enough of a warning, those memories had been just what he had needed to convince himself that forgetting was the best thing to do.

It hadn’t been a very difficult task to accomplish. It was three days later, at Christophe’s wedding reception, that he found someone who made him forget about the party in 3.5 seconds neat. He was chatting idly with Milla when he saw him. The man was talking with Phichit Chulanont, a friend of Chris with the hobby of photography, black hair slicked back, brown eyes and a smile that could make flowers bloom.

And Viktor must have stared very intently - and obviously - because suddenly Chris was at his side, looking at him with his cat-like grin. 

«You know, you kind of resemble one of the dogs in Pavlov’s experiment. You look like you might suddenly start drooling».

«Chris, you are my best friend and I love you, so I need to ask you something of utter importance», Viktor began in the most serious tone he could come up with. «What’s his name? Is he taken? You think that Phichit would introduce me to him?».

The grin on Christophe’s face widened. «Ah, mon chou, you wound me. You’re underestimating my skills. I know exactly what to do, in these situations. So just do what I tell you, ça va?».

Viktor shot him a confused glance before nodding, unconvinced. Chris had his fair share of experiences in relationships and such, his advice and opinions were always rational and well thought out. Chris had always been there, when things didn’t work (he could testify that his hugs and homemade ice cream could soothe even the most brokenhearted souls) and that was why Viktor trusted him like nobody else. 

«Show me your back and close your eyes», Chris ordered while taking a sip from his glass of champagne.

Viktor couldn’t understand how that could help him getting the chance to talk to the cute Japanese man without looking like a fool, but he obliged nonetheless. «Chris, what are you plotting?».

«You know, I’ll put it into terms that you, giant science nerd, can easily understand», Chris began patting his shoulder lightheartedly. A weird sense of danger made a chill run down his spine. «I have a feeling that you two might have some… _Chemistry_ ».

Viktor would have gladly explained that he was a physicist, not a chemist, but he was prevented from doing so from what totally felt like a kick in his butt. He was sure he was going to fall and roll on the floor totally making a fool of himself, and he was already planning his revenge on Chris, when he landed on something very… Soft. And then an horrible stain of wine was on the jacket of his tailored suit and the handsome Japanese man he was fawning on was apologizing profusely.

Chris was an evil genius. Unorthodox, but brilliant.

§

Yuuri Katsuki, that was his name. The man apologized at least ten times - even if it all had been just an accident - and with such a constipated expression that Viktor felt the irrational urge of doing something to turn it into a smile. He wanted Yuuri Katsuki to smile because of him. He wanted Yuuri Katsuki to smile at him.

That was why he dropped the bomb.

«Dance with me», he blurted out offering his hand, awkward like a teenager at his first date.

Taking his hand, Yuuri Katsuki looked like a deer in the headlights.

They danced a waltz.

Viktor was a hideous dancer, and his first attempt ended with his feet having no mercy of the man he was trying to lead. He was a science man, after all. Or maybe dancing just wasn’t his thing.  
That was when Yuuri, sweet and shy Yuuri with his pretty eyes and cheeks, took his hand in his, the other arm gently sneaking around his waist, and led him in the most dizzying waltz of his whole life.

It was like watching a spell unfold. Yuuri’s grasp on him was firm yet gentle as they spun on the dance floor like they’ve been doing it for their whole lives. It was just them, the warmth shared through their hands, floating in their little own world as Chris, Phichit and the other guests disappeared. 

When his eyes met Yuuri’s, the man’s grip tightened for a moment, pink flooding adorably on his cheeks. And-

Oh.

Viktor had it bad. Really, _really_ bad.

§

«That was amazing! Where did you learn to dance like that?».

The garden of the resort where the party was taking place truly was a sight. Flowers of every color and shape shined on luscious green meadows on that bright late spring morning.  
They were sitting on a wooden bench in front of a small artificial lake, chatting quietly as they observed the lazy movements of the ducks on the water’s surface.

Yuuri lowered his gaze. «Sorry for suddenly taking the lead, back there. I wasn’t thinking straight».

Viktor felt himself blink a couple of times, a confused smile stretching on his lips. «Why are you apologizing? I mean, you were incredible and that was the most fun I had in years!».

«Actually… I’ve just finished majoring in dance. Sorry, I should have told you before».

Well, knowing that important bit of information could have spared him the terrible first impression he left, but the surprise factor was priceless. Not only Yuuri Katsuki was one of the cutest people he’d ever met, he was also handsome, kind and very talented.

«Stop apologizing, please. If you don't, I’ll have to ask you to dance again, you know».

Yuuri looked at him with a bewildered expression for a second before erupting in a heartfelt laughter, the most beautiful of smiles spreading on his pretty pink lips.

«That… I wouldn't mind».

For a second Viktor wondered what they tasted like.

He cleared his voice.

«Anyway, I’m Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov», he introduced himself holding out his hand. «I am a “science nerd" as Chris loves to call me».

Yuuri gave him a curious look as they shook hands. «”Science nerd"?».

«I’m a physicist specialized in astronomy», he explained chuckling. «I envy you, Yuuri. Dancing you can communicate universally. There will be no person who won’t understand what your body is telling as it moves».

«Well, that’s a way to see it. But I’m not as good as you think. I’m just a dime-a-dozen dancer, I still have a long way before my dancing can really convey what I think or feel. And besides, shouldn't mathematical formulas be the most universal form of communication?».

Viktor felt his lips curving in a wry smile.«Mathematics can only explain facts, not feelings or thoughts. You see, there's a reason why I chose astronomy, but I guess it would be boring for you to listen to it».

It had always been like that. Viktor was a very sociable person, but loved his job more than anything else. The stars had so much to teach and were so fascinating, but all the people he met were completely uninterested in that kind of topic. That was why his past relationships never worked: how could he spend a whole life together with someone who wasn’t interested or couldn’t accept such a big and important part of him?

«Actually… I would like to hear that. The mythology of my home country is deeply intertwined with astronomy. We even have a festival dedicated to the stars».

Yuuri’s expression was not bored or forced, but genuinely interested. And Viktor definitely wasn’t prepared for that. He expected Yuuri to change topic, or, in the worst case scenario, to find an excuse to go back in, but that man looked like he was still full of surprises.

«Well. I’ve always thought that the stars and the laws of space and time have a lot to teach us. You know, stars really resemble humans, in a way. There are some particular stars called “white dwarfs” which are very small but burn brighter than any other kind of star, but their blinding brightness is the cause of their precocious death. Don’t you think that we humans are just the same? We try to shine as much as we can in a span of time that it’s very short, if we compare it to the age of our planet. And that’s why some of us try so hard to leave a trace of their existence in time».

Yuuri nodded solemnly, completely absorbed in Viktor’s explanation. «I think I get what you’re trying to say. “Exegi monumentum in aere perennium". It’s a verse written by Horace, the Latin poet. It basically says that he built a monument that will last through time, and that monument is his poetry. Thanks to it we’re able to remember him even almost two thousand years later, and I think it’s some kind of miracle».

Unable to say a word, Viktor gently grasped Yuuri’s hand in his. For a long instant the delicate blowing of the spring breeze and the soft lapping of the lake’s waters were the only audible sounds. A faraway laughter echoed in the wind.

«Yuuri. Before, when we were dancing, to me you shone brighter than a white dwarf».

Yuuri smiled, soft and sweet, lightly squeezing his hand. «You know, I started dancing because I was in a desperate search for beauty. I took classic literature as an extra course because I thought that could find beauty in other people’s words and feelings, but I never thought about space. But now I see. Stars, space, time… They’re beautiful in their own peculiar way». Yuuri suddenly lowered his gaze, cheeks dusted of that pink he was already so fond of. «And it’s all thanks to you».

It hit him like lightning bolt. It electrified every single nerve in his body. 

Viktor was in love.

It was stupid and irrational, since they had met just a few hours before. But since when love was something rational? Meeting Yuuri Viktor felt like he had found something he had been looking for for a very long time. Yuuri was so special and precious that the mere idea of losing him was terrifying. 

Maybe he could propose on the spot. He could already imagine it, in his mind. Suddenly kneeling down, wearing his heart on a sleeve for the very first time, and then saying:

«Yuuri Katsuki, you’re the most special person I’ve ever met. Please, marry me».

Oh. He must have said that out loud, because suddenly Yuuri became of an impossible shade of red, smacking his arm with an awkward smile on his face. Curse his loud mouth and his incapacity of coordinating thought and speech. He should explain-

«C-c’mon, stop joking», Yuuri said with a strangled laughter.

«Y-yeah, joking… You’re right. I-it was a joke».

Another fit of laughter, even more strangled, escaped Yuuri’s lips. Viktor wondered why of all things he had a talent for making situations awkward in 5 seconds neat. 

«Yeah, g-good joke… It was funny!».

He was such an idiot.

§

Despite the awkward moment he caused, Viktor really enjoyed the party with Yuuri’s and Phichit’s company. The latter, differently from the Japanese man, actually had a clue about what was going on in Viktor’s head (“Don’t waste your chance, you’ll never find someone else like him!”)and promptly appointed himself as their matchmaker.  
Viktor, on his side, was quite conflicted about the situation: though he was pretty sure that it was love at first sight in his case, he wondered what Yuuri was thinking about the situation. His reaction at his “mock proposal” was quite strange and Viktor wasn’t able to understand if the man was somehow disappointed by the fact he hadn’t been serious.

He was thinking deeply about his current situation when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Yuuri, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, was smiling at him, offering his hand.

«Dance with me, Viktor!».

Viktor smiled weakly, slightly relieved by the fact that Yuuri didn’t hang on what happened earlier. «I’d love to, but you have tested yourself what a terrible dancer I am».

Yuuri sat next to him with a sigh. «Look at Emil and Michele. They’re both terrible, but they surely look like they’re having fun. Oh, and… Uhm, I don’t know if the kind of dance Christophe is doing is appropriate for public display, but… What I mean is, you don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. Having fun is what matters».

«… You promise you won’t laugh at me?», Viktor asked with uncharacteristic hesitance, like a child asking something to a parent.

Yuuri’s smile brightened, and Viktor had the suspicion that Phichit poured some more champagne in Yuuri’s glass when he wasn’t looking. «I’ve already seen your worst, so you can only get better. And besides...», Yuuri trailed off holding out his hand, «I guess I can give you a couple of lessons».

Viktor smiled, grasping firmly the other man’s hand. «It looks like an offer I can’t refuse».

§

They went through disco music, salsa and chachacha. Viktor launched himself in a terrible imitation of John Travolta on “Staying Alive”, making all the guests laugh to tears before joining him. He coupled with Chris on Y.M.C.A, preventing him from doing a striptease while Otabek Altin, the DJ, played Hot Stuff. He danced and belted it out on Grease Lightning and shared opinions of high cultural value (a.k.a the way Yuuri’s fabulous ass moved as he danced salsa with Sara Crispino) with Phichit. 

When the end of the party came, and people began coupling up for slow dancing, Viktor, high on adrenaline and love, grabbed Yuuri’s hand, running and giggling towards the garden like a couple of teenagers at their prom. 

Paper lanterns lit up the paths among the trees and flowers, giving the garden a soft and intimate atmosphere. The stars shone brightly in the night sky above.  
“Stammi Vicino”, an incredibly touching duet from Italian opera was playing in the background as Viktor gently put an arm around Yuuri’s waist, imitating the way the younger man held him just a few hours before. He was sure that slow dancing didn't require particular talent, so it was worth giving it a shot.

«Would you like to dance, Mr.Katsuki?».

«We’re already dancing, you know», Yuuri scoffed offering him an amused smile.

«Yuuuuri! Don’t ruin the mood!».

Yuuri laughed, and Viktor thought that the stars were suddenly shining brighter at the wonder of that sound.

«It’s strange», Yuuri said in a soft voice the moment his laughter died down.

«What?», Viktor asked curiously as he gently swung them following the delicate rhythm of the song.

«I would never have imagined that this party would have ended like this for me. I mean, meeting you, dancing with you, talking with you about my life… It’s like some sort of miracle. Like we’ve met in a past life».

Viktor suddenly stood still, without saying a word. He looked at Yuuri with a look that was halfway between contemplation and utter adoration.

«S-Sorry… You must have thought this is too cheesy», the younger man apologized, looking down.

«Don’t assume people’s thoughts», Viktor answered with a light smile, holding Yuuri tighter as he spoke. «I was just thinking that with a such a nice atmosphere and song, and with such an handsome man before my eyes it would be a shame wasting a similar occasion. So, Yuuri Katsuki, may I--».

«Y-you’re rambling», Yuuri interrupted, face beet red and shining eyes. «J-just shut up and k-kiss me!».

Viktor’s smile brightened impossibly as he leaned down. «Gladly».

Somewhere in the background Phichit squealed as Christophe was grinning madly. Sara Crispino and Milla Babicheva wiped their moved tears and JJ filmed the whole scene, knowing that he had some precious material for the future in his hands. In a corner, Michele Crispino was trying with all his might to hide his tears as Emil Nekola patted his back: Michele didn't smack his hand away when Emil held it.

§ 

A year later, at Yuuri and Viktor’s wedding, Christophe and Phichit gave a moving speech as their friends’ best men, pointing out how their story was a magnificent example of the ways of fate.  
It was all smiles and happy tears until a slideshow of photos of a certain bachelor party was projected on a wall.  
As Yuuri died of embarrassment at the proofs of his night as a stripper (which Chris justified with it being a “masked" party) a loud “VKUSNO!” rang through the room.

Love works in very mysterious ways.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi at [@feelstina](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/feelstina). I don't bite!


End file.
